Tell me about the TRUE you
by Yin.Hearts.Yang
Summary: What would YOU say about the real-you? Who are you REALLY? That's what the boys are going to find out when they're given a rutine assignment that will get some non-rutine answers. Life in a small town is not always as it appears...
1. Butters Scotch

Intro: This is Butters' essay. There are a few... taboo-ish things in here, but nothing too horrible I hope. This tells of an older and more complex Butters, and how he feels alienated. Warnings for this chapter: Homosexuality, mentions of drug use, and slight non-con between two guys.

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Butterscotch: by Leopold Scotch

I'm not as weak as everyone thinks. I just pretend. If they knew who I really was, what would they think? I know they already don't like me much, but I rather have them dislike this me than shun the real one. Things happen to kids in small towns, as much or maybe more-so than in the cities. You just don't see it. Here we cover everything wrong and bad up instead of informing all the neighbors. Sometimes, I almost wish we _were_ in the city; then, at least, I'd have a better excuse.

I've had a lot of shit happen to me in my life; the short duration of 17 years it's been. So much that I couldn't even begin to list them all. Shit happens, but I just happen to be a magnet.

My parents, if I can really call them that, are both in various degrees of clinical insanity I suspect. My mother especially; she's tried multiple times to kill me, though many were when I was too sheltered and naïve to realize it. She's let up some since I've gotten older, but I think she blames me for my dad's problems. He's gay. He also has a habit of snorting coke to get in the mood and to forget about us at home. Now he has HIV, and he and my mother barely to speak to each other, let alone sleep in the same bed. He's not here often anymore, usually staying at a boyfriend's house for days at a time.

Ever since I can remember I wasn't like my friends. When they played football or other games on the playground I stayed to myself and sometimes sang softly. When they played _World of Warcraft_, I played _Hello Kitty Island Paradise_. I'm beginning to think homosexuality is hereditary. Once even, when I was younger and still naïve, my "friend" Eric got me sent to Camp Pray-the-Gay-Away accidentally, where I met my first real taste of _gay_. He was a bit taller than me, and probably older, with honey-blonde curls, and a major nail-biting problem. I don't remember his name, or much else about him except that when he kissed me and thanked me for whatever reason, his lips felt almost _too_ nice.

I started researching this gay thing, and became interested and quite fond of my findings. _Too_ fond. It was a few years later that this hobby of mine was going to ruin me.

Eric was the one who discovered my secret. He walked in on me as I was masturbating to a porno with two men. He just smirked at my frozen state of fear. "I knew it; you're a faggot and now I have proof!" He walked over to me and slapped my hand away from myself, pushing me out of my chair and onto the floor. Looking briefly at my computer screen I could see him stiffen, looking again at me as I was hastily trying to zip myself in, though he began to tug at the crotch of his jeans. I knew his secret too; and I told him. The dumbest thing I've ever done, I realize now.

Cartman screamed at me. He said I was I just fag and that no one cared about _my kind _and what I had to say. He ripped my pants at the seams in his fury, which cannot be matched by any other force on earth, and my panties as well. He began to touch me, blow me, and slapped me viciously when my body reacted. He proceeded to finish the rest of the deed, tearing me open, physically and my heart as well. He licked my tears sadistically, and horribly, it aroused me, as did his taunting reminder that I was enjoying his treatment. His rape.

This continued happening every so often from then on to now. After a while I realized my feelings for him. I really love him. When he's drowsy or asleep after his orgasm, I lie next to him and kiss his brow and lips. I clean us up and secretly caress and embrace him in his sleep, or I just watch him.

I never used to be so screwed up. Maybe it's all the false security around our little town. Maybe it's because my parents are also screwed up, undoubtedly corrupted by something that happened to them. Either way, I can't really change these things so I guess I am stuck the way I am.


	2. Stan Marsh

Stan's essay. Stan really is a pretty normal guy, so his secret seemed relatively weak compaired to Butters. But still, what guy would admit to being physically (and probably emotionally) abused by a female? I liked the idea of Stan and Wendy being together, which will be explained later... Warnings: Slight adult themes, depression, abuse.

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Emotive Me: by Stan Marsh

I'm the one that seems all right. I'm there for everyone… but who's here for me? Wendy? Kyle? I love them both but I have nothing left for myself. I'm so sick of this town, this life! I wish I had the balls to just get it over with, but I don't want to leave everyone.

This is me: Stan Marsh. Kyle Broflovski is the best friend I've ever had. Wendy Testaburger is the love of my life. Home sucks. School sucks; everyone mocks my clothes, saying I'm Emo. So what if I like "Emotive Punk"? It's not as if I cut myself anymore, so they should just lay off! Well, not as often.

Like I said before, home sucks. My dad's an alcoholic but that's really nothing new, everyone is these days. My sister is still a slut. She and Cartman's mom would get along _great_. Her name's Michelle, but refuses to be called anything but Shell. She's a major stoner, and prostitutes herself for the money. I always wonder where she gets it anyway, what dealers live in South Park? The drugs don't help her moods either, she's still as bitchy as always. She's fucking strong too, which isn't the greatest combination.

Not that I couldn't take her on of course, like I didn't used to be able to when I was little, but I don't want to hit a girl. That's just not cool. Though, a lot of times I wish she were a guy just for that reason! Just a few days ago, my dad was plastered, and ended up saying something stupid; he has a habit of doing that when he's drunk, and now Shell's rage has begun to bruise on his jaw. Actually, I think I still have one too, on my chest…

As I said before, Kyle's the greatest friend I could ever ask for. He's the one who helps me through this shithole of a life. I can tell him about Shell, because he knows her too. She used to babysit us when we were little; that's how long we've been friends. I wouldn't dare tell Wendy about her, even though I know that's not good for our relationship. I just don't want her to think I'm a pussy, or that I couldn't protect her from something happening. We've broken up 5 times over the past 8 years, and I _really_ don't want to give her another reason to break up. I just love her so much… one more time may be the last. It might be the end of us, and if that happened I know I'd die. Not even Kyle could be enough...

Death seems like such a good idea sometimes, what with my life. I mean, I know there are people way worse off than me... but nights after Shell has left her mark on me, a bruise or cut of varying severity, I find Santa and the Easter Bunny easier to believe in than that.


	3. Cartman

Well, this is probably going to shock some people, apologies in advance... but it's Cartman, you gotta expect him to be the most fucked up of the group. Anyway, this is Cartman's... ranting on paper. Warnings: Non-Descriptive Incest, lots of coarse language, and general Cartman-being-Cartman

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Fuck This Class And This Stupid Paper: By Eric Cartman

Ok frist of all, I hate this scool and this town and especialy this fucking stupid asinment! theres no point. all everybody knows about me is all they need to. #1 that im not fat. i never fucking was either. #2 that im not a fucking faggot. i swear that butters fag hangs around ME, not me with him or anything. hes just my bitch. he does whatevr I say whenever i tell him and its like hes my slave or sumthing. its pretty sweet, I get ass whenever i want and dont got to deal with those winy bitches with there bitchass problems and pms. BUT ITS NOT GAY! Hes so much like a bitch i mite as wel not even bother with him but hes an easy piece of meat sinse hes always following me. but like I said hes not as bad as the rest of the dumb bitches in this town that want to get in my pants but cant because there all just dumb bitches that want relatonships and all that shit and expect you to buy all this shit for them and still hold out. jesus fucking crist there are so many bitches in this fucking town it drives me crazy like kyles mom and stans sister and bebe and wendy. wendys one of the worst... i hope she gets knocked up by stan or somthing. god the biggest sluty bitch in this place is probably my mom. my mom, my god, she is such a whore. ok, so I know everyones been saying it forever, but shes, like, my MOM, u know? im suposed to stick up for her cuz were like blood related and all that but u cant fucking deny that shes not the biggest slut in south park. and lately shes getting to stoned every fucking nite to say anything for herself so im stuck sticking up for her. like everynite she gets fucked up out her mind and most of the time has some random guy she picks up from god noes where come fuck her senseless. and im not kidding about how fucked up she gets. seriously. shes getting so bad lately sometimes she doesnt even know who I am! whatever. at least she doent have AS many guys around as she used to. It used to be EVERYDAY for awile but the drugs mustve fucked up her looks. thats probly why shes doping or stoneing or cheeseing or whatever the fuck shes doing so much. still, sometimes I wish shed fucking take a break allready! i mean, how can you NOT reconize your own son?! im not 40 something and I dont look like it, so you think the stupid bitch could tell me apart from her asshole whore boyfriends, right?! fuck, ok so my life aint so fucking picture perfect like Stan or his bitch girlfriend or the Jew or whoever fucking else. _like its MY fucking fault that my mom comes to me when shes fucking triping out of her mind and thinks im one of her gazillionand3 boyfriends and trys to do me even though thats fucking INCEST and incests worse than faggots and jews and jew faggots put together!!  
_Im not riting anymore of this shit asinment. its fucking stupid and i don't care if i fial this class cuz no one uses languge arts in the real world!

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Re-edited and fresh off the press. I thought his piece was too short, so I _elaborated_. Now with 76% more cussing! As for the long run-on italicized sentance that is basically Cartman's little breaking point... I actually wanted that to be crossed out as if he'd tried to scribble it out, but FanFiction doesn't have the strikethrough or double-strikethrough functions. ~KK


	4. Kyle Broflovski

Invisible Son by: Kyle Broflovski

My name is Kyle Broflovski. I know, it's Jewish. Very Jewish. I guess I'm Jewish too, something that fatass Eric Cartman won't let me forget. I don't really feel like it most of the time, though. It's not like it's a huge part of me.

My brother is Ike Brofloski. I'm sure you've heard of him, everyone has. It's because he's perfect. You can't imagine how fucked up it is to be compared to your _younger_ brother. And I can't even begin to tell you.

He's the star of our family. My parents fucking _drool_ over him. His grades, his sports, his _genius_. He's not even theirs… did you know that? They adopted him from Canada when I was a little kid. It was when I was really young, and back then I was very sickly. They didn't know if I was going to make it to even a teenager, so I guess out of some way to insure they would always have a son, they got a little Canadian boy and took him home. But then I got healthy. And now I'm stuck with him.

Seems a little weird that I know about that whole story about the reason he was adopted right? I mean, in that detail. It's because they told me, sobbing.

Two years ago, I got sick again (I'll spare you the details). Since I was always so sick before, my parents thought this was the end. Almost everyone did. Except my best friend Stan, who came to visit everyday and tell me I was going to make it. Half of the time I wasn't even coherent enough to realize he was there. But like a miracle, they doctors say, I got through it.

Everyone coped with it differently. My friends don't seem to acknowledge I was ever sick, which I almost thank them for. I'm not sure Cartman even knew I _was_ sick. He still treats me like a dirty Jew like always… fucking Nazi bastard.

But my parents… they had already said goodbye to me. They had already mourned. And to them, I'm already dead. They don't speak to me, and try not to look at me. They just shower all of their attention on Ike, like he's their only son. And I'm just a walking ghost in the house. If they ever absolutely have to communicate with me, they use Ike as a medium. He still talks to me like a normal little brother. Like I'm someone special.

It just makes me hate him more.

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Kyle was sick. That's why he's so late. (That's my excuse I'm I'm sticking to it!)


End file.
